


A Tiger's Guide to Friendship

by Lazchan



Series: Tiger's Friendship [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 18:15:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9915032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazchan/pseuds/Lazchan
Summary: Yuuri tries to be unobtrusive with supporting Yuri during skating; it's hard to judge how friendship works.





	

Yuuri wasn't sure why he was even here _. It's not like Yuri's going to like the idea that the idea that I'm cheering him on._ He had gotten so angry when Yuuri had done it that one time and now Yuuri was more leery of vocalizing his support. _When it comes from someone you dislike, I guess it's not appreciated._

 

He hid himself among groups of supporters, glad that he was short enough that he could blend in. He looked down at the plushie in his hand, smiling faintly. Yuri would realize he was here immediately, even if he had someone else throw it out. A cat wearing a leather jacket, with a tiger on the back. A friend in Nishinomiya had sent it to him; one of those one-of-a-kind collectibles. He strongly suspected she had made it just for him. Still, he thought that Yuri might like it.

 

He honestly also just wanted to see Yuri skate; _he_ certainly wasn't competing in the European Nationals and Japan had completely theirs a few weeks ago. The gold medal he had won from it hung proudly in his parents main room, the first gold of the Senior medals. He was certain that Yuri would win a gold; his program was stunning and he had done more with it than probably anyone knew. Yuri was not only going to be a legend in figure skating; he already was.

 

This program was no different—the entire audience was entranced with his skating, the music was fast and intense and used Yuri's amazing technical ability to its highest capability. He was outshining all of the rest and only at the age of fifteen-almost-sixteen.

 

When the lights went back up and the gifts started raining down, Yuuri aimed carefully, letting the plush sail to right in front of Yuri's feet. While Yuri stared down at it in astonishment, Yuuri took the cheering of the crowd to duck out of the way and waiting for the scores out in the main area. He had no doubt Yuri would place first.

 

Viktor was with the Russian team and he didn’t even know that Yuuri had come.  Not that Viktor was skating; not in Nationals, not without any programs and having been off for a year coaching _Yuuri_ , but he was supporting his rinkmates. Yuuri hadn't made himself a part of the rink yet, of the Russian skaters and he didn't feel right, being in that group.

 

He let the score sound in his ears as he walked towards the lobby doors, not wanting Yuri to catch him here. He didn’t want to ruin the moment for Yuri and so he missed seeing the video of the kiss and cry. Yuri was hugging the plush that that Yuuri had thrown to him as his scores for his short program came up, placing him solidly in first.

 

~

 

Yuuri decided to skate in a rink not terribly far from the one where the competition was being held; it was a tossup of whether it'd be packed by people wanting to be a part of the skating somehow, or empty because everyone was glued to their tvs or packed into the stadium, watching the top skaters from the various European countries skate.

 

It leaned more towards the latter and Yuuri was grateful for the wide open spaces to move around in, to stretch his legs, to try and piece together a program that he could show to Viktor later; to either add to his program for Four Continents or Worlds or to have something new entirely for the next season. He was vaguely aware of people watching him, but he wasn't the only one on the ice that danced across it, wasn't the only one doing spins and laybacks. With the Nationals right here in the city, it seemed to pull out the potential skaters in droves.

 

He wanted a notebook to write down his thoughts; wanted Phichit or Viktor or Yuuko to film his movements, to see what he was doing, where his skates were landing and where his arms were placed. _I need to be someone that can show the world I can skate without mistakes; I want to be worthy of the friendship of the skaters I meet._ His mind went back to Yuri; who at least seemed to respect his skating and wanted him to do better. Who lectured him when he did less than his best. _I need to prove I can skate without Viktor pushing me towards it_. If he could have at least Yuri's respect, then that was at least one step.

 

Friendship from Yuri's end might take more time and it might never happen—but Yuuri would take what was given. He skated in hopes of making that connection. It was what had made thread to Viktor grow taunt; it was what helped him grow his wings to fly across the ice and lift him out of his insecurities and inspire others with what he put out onto the ice.

 

When his cheeks were flushed red from the exertion of skating and from the cold of the ice, he pulled away to give space to the other skaters. Watched their spins as he hid behind his scarf, watched coaches guide them and direct their movements one step at a time. Some of the kids were younger than he was when he first started being serious about skating and others were as old as Yuri is now; doing basic camel spins and crossovers, with all the wobbly confidence of a novice skater.

 

He couldn't stay here forever; he should get back home, if only to pick out the music that was in his head, to hum out the notes and practice the steps on a solid floor and with no one else watching him. To wait and see if Yuri would tell him about his win, even if it was just bragging about his score; if there were any pictures of Yuri and the various gifts he had been given.

_If there was any hint he saw plush and he liked it, even if he didn’t know it came from me._

 

~

 

He was curled against the back of the bed, headphones on and listening to snatches of music that he felt almost right for what he had been aiming for on the ice. He was so focused that he didn't hear the hotel room open until something smacked him in the face and broke his concentration. He carefully pulled down the headphones and stared at a scowling Yuri.

 

He looked down at the cat plush in his arms and felt his ears burn, but he tried to play it off. Yuri seriously couldn’t connect the cat to him, could he? All of his fans knew how much Yuri loved cats, they tossed everything from headbands to plush toys and treats at him. They stopped at live animals _on the ice_ , but had tried to push small kittens at him, even if to just get a picture of him holding cats with an eager fan beaming the entire time.

 

“Where did  you find it?” Yuri demanded and Yuuri gently put the cat to the side, standing up and stretching. He had been listening to music for much longer than he thought and the notebook next to him was filled with scrawling notes, some in English and some in Japanese so messy that he hoped he’d be able to figure out what he meant.

 

“What do you mean?” he asked, fiddling with the notebook and using the excuse of putting everything into order to collect himself.

 

“I know it came from you,” Yuri snapped and Yuuri winced, still not looking at Yuri. “I didn’t even _see_ you at the competition. I didn’t think you’d even come, without Viktor skating.” There was a strange bite in his words that had Yuuri actually turning to stare at him.

 

“A cat plush makes you think of me?” Yuuri feigned surprise, but kept a careful eye on Yuri. “Even if… why would it be a surprise if I was there?” he asked slowly. “I mean--” he flushed and looked away. _I hoped we could be friends. You’re a fantastic skater and I wanted to support you. I hid because you would be angry._  “We were rinkmates, even if it was only for a few days…” he flushed. They were technically rinkmates _now_ , even if they had different coaches.

 

“It’s strange because you were _hiding_ ,” Yuri frowned, stepping around Yuuri to take the plush again. He turned it around and ran his finger down the kanji. “And what fan is going to toss something at _me_ in Japanese, but you, stupid?” he asked.

 

Yuuri turned red; he hadn’t even _thought_ about that and now that Yuri pointed it out, it was more than obvious.

 

“I knew it!” Yuri said triumphantly, standing toe to toe with Yuuri. “Why didn’t you stick around?” he asked, frowning. “Yakov took the whole team out,” he snorted. “Treated everyone, even if Georgi cried over Anya again and the old hag and Viktor got into a drinking contest.”

 

Yuuri shrugged, sitting on the edge of the bed, untangling his headphones and setting them next to his laptop. “I’m not part of the team,” he pointed out, “just Viktor’s student and well--it was _your_ night, Yuri. I didn’t… want to intrude on that.”

 

“Hah?” Yuri stared at him, his frown deepening and gripping the front of Yuuri’s shirt. “Say that again, katsudon.” His voice held a warning tone.

 

Yuuri gently pushed his hands away. “I wanted you to enjoy your meal without the reminder that I was around now, Yuri,” he said carefully. “I know me being here isn’t what you wanted, so… I he thought I’d minimize it.” He rubbed the back of his neck. _You were upset enough when I was at the rink, I wasn’t going to destroy the illusion that everything was back to normal for you._

 

“You’re part of the team, idiot,” Yuri huffed, looking embarrassed that he actually had to say it out loud. “It wouldn’t be a pain if you had come, as long as you and Victor weren’t disgusting around each other.”

 

“... you want me there?” Yuuri hated how tentative his voice was, as if he was the one that was younger here and not Yuri. “I mean-- here? You don’t mind me being in Russia?” He tripped over his own words and Yuri eyed him.

“As long as you’re still skating, moron, I don’t really care.” Yuri crossed his arms over his chest, the cat plush still tucked in his arms. He flicked his gaze back towards Yuuri. “It was weird not having you there, so they sent me up here to get you.”

 

“... you could say you never found me,” Yuuri offered, still giving Yuri a way out.

 

“Stupid, I could have not even come up to the hotel room where I knew you were hiding out if I wanted to go that route,” Yuri rolled his eyes. “Let’s go, katsudon,” he smirked. “I want to show off the video of my routine and brag about my score some more.”

 

Yuuri rolled his eyes, but he had to smile at the faint blush that pinked the top of Yuri’s ears. He was actually trying.

 

It wasn’t until they were in the elevator going down,to the lobby area, that Yuuri realized that Yuri had held onto that plush all that time, instead of having it bagged up and sent away. He looked down at the floor, his smile growing. For the first time, Yuuri felt a bit of hope that Yuri was starting to consider him as a friend.

 


End file.
